Star Trek: The Sound of Music
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: The Battle of Starbase Yorktown wasn't the first time that music had been used as a weapon of war...


**The Sound of Music**

"Do you think a hundred years from now, historians will look at the Battle of Yorktown and question the presence of classical music?"

"After seeing some of the stuff out there on the frontier? Honestly, I think classical music might be one of the less weird things."

"Yes, I've been going over your ship's logs, Captain. You've had some…interesting, experiences."

'Interesting.' Taking a glass of water from Paris, Kirk supposed that was one term that could be used for the _Enterprise_ 's journey of discovery. Strange new worlds, strange new peoples, and all around 'strangeness' permeated the final frontier, and probably always would until the day came when the frontier was a memory. A day he wouldn't live to see, but right now, being alive was a reward in of itself.

"To absent friends," Commodore Paris said.

Kirk returned the gesture. He'd had his fill of wine earlier today, as befitting a man who was still alive, still sane, and still captain of a starship, albeit one still being built. Now was the moment where he had to engage in small talk, engage in a pseudo-debriefing, and-

"You still sure you don't want-"

"No," Kirk said.

Had to deal with _that_. The matter of becoming a vice admiral. A matter that right now, he wanted nothing to do with. Not when the dark beckoned.

"I still have a crew," Kirk said, taking another sip. "They left Earth with me. If I return, I'd like to be back there with them."

"You're aware that we'll need to fill some vacancies with that," Paris said. "There's plenty of people on Yorktown who wouldn't mind heading out into the galaxy."

"After the galaxy nearly killed them?"

"After a rogue Starfleet officer killed them," Paris corrected, giving Kirk 'the stare.' The same stare that he'd heard would give vulcans pause, and send klingons into retreat. Least she'd got the klingons at Donatu V that was. "The universe is a hostile place, Captain, but it doesn't kill with intent."

"No," Kirk murmured, taking another sip. "I suppose it doesn't."

Sometimes he wondered though. Spock would have said it was illogical, Bones would say he wasn't being paranoid enough, and him? He'd have to find his way out of it. His relationship with the galaxy was like a child, he reflected. You loved them half the time, despised them the other. Which was still preferable to dealing with the issue of David-

"Classical music," Paris repeated.

Kirk blinked. "Pardon?"

"Oh, I was just thinking. Remember the Martian invasion of 2096? How the only way Earth stopped them was with the use of classical music?"

Kirk shrugged. "That's a bit far back in history for my liking."

"A bit far for us all," Paris said, giving Kirk a brief smile. "But I was just thinking – our ancestors defeated Martians with music. You defeated Krall-"

 _Edison,_ Kirk reflected. He'd always be "Edison" in his mind.

"…with music as well." She leant back in her chair and glanced out the window, over her starbase. "It was once said that music would be the universal language in the event of first contact. That before the application of the universal translator, communication with aliens through music or mathematics would be our only means of establishing a dialogue."

"That was well before first contact," Kirk said.

"I know." Paris returned her gaze to him and took a sip of her own beverage. "Now, first contact is made on an episodic basis. That, in the midst of dimension-hopping romulans, rogue Starfleet officers, and klingon bastards, I suppose music sabotaging a fleet of drones isn't unexpected."

"So music is a weapon of war, rather than an instrument of peace," Kirk said. "Is that your point?"

"A point? No. I'm too old to be making points." She stood up and walked over to the window. "My generation's run its course, Captain Kirk. Your generation might yet live in a different world from mine." She glanced at him. "Maybe even the generation after yours."

Kirk swallowed. He wasn't so naive as to think that Paris didn't know everything there was to know, whether it be what shirt he wore in the morning (yellow), what shirt he wore at night (blue), or that nagging detail of what had happened less than a year into his voyage between him and Carol Marcus. Yep. Brave new world. New generation.

"Well, I'll promise you this then," Kirk said. "The new _Enterprise_ is going to have archives that contain the cultural history of everything between Earth and Andoria. I make first contact with music, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Thank you," Paris said. "But get the job done Captain. That's all I ask."

'Get the job done.' Right. Kirk knew that she wanted him to get it done back on Earth. Get it done on the same planet where music had been used as a weapon of war. Get it done, and view the results of first contact rather than initiate it.

He could wait for that though.

He was still young.

* * *

 _A/N_

 _I've detailed my (very mixed) thoughts on_ Beyond _elsewhere, but...the "sabotage" scene. The "this is awesome but so, so stupid" scene. The scene that reminded me of stuff like_ Guardians of the Galaxy _and_ Mars Attacks _\- not medias I'd usually associate with_ Star Trek _. Still, did get me to drabble this up at least._


End file.
